A Lord's Beginning
by KMSaum
Summary: **Backstory fic** The Marquis of Athlum is an unshakable presence at 19--what lies beneathe that collected exterior? Prologues detail his backstory, and we'll see where we go from there! Please R&R! Rated for later action. NOTE: being revised, more soon!
1. Prologue 1: Flowers and Flames

**Hey all! This is my *first* "Last Remnant" fanfic, and the first on ! Woo! This series centers on David Nassau, the Marquis of Athlum, and his generals. The two prologues will fill-in his backstory as mentioned in the game, and from there....who knows? ;) Please R&R!!**

**-kmsaum-**

**Prologue One: Flowers and Flames**

_**4 years old**_

"…my Lord?" Emma Honeywell stood at the entrance to the garden, watching her ruler with worried eyes. Beside her, a small blond-haired boy clutched at her skirts, hiding half behind her to peer past at his father.

Aurien, Marquis of Athlum stood facing his late wife's body, laid for viewing beneath the gazebo in her garden. The Lady's prize purple daisies sprung up around her in droves, bright and vivid in mockery of the near-colorless porcelain of her skin. The sky, visible above the high walls, was washed a bloody red-gold by the sinking sun. The golden trigger-Remnant Kellendros hung limply in his right hand.

"My Lord," that was Torgal, tall and dark in the waning light. His gravelly voice was expressionless. "My Lord, the people of Athlum are waiting to pay their respects." The Marquis was silent, unhearing. The only note that showed his recognition was that he stepped aside, crushing a cluster of baby's breath beneath his boot. Torgal motioned to the Athlumian soldiers flanking him, an honor guard decked out in the teal and maroon of the royal family. The four of them aligned on both sides of the Lady's casket and, silently and at Torgal's heals, bore her away to the throne room one final time.

The blond-haired boy buried his face in Emma's hip as the procession passed. She thought that perhaps he was crying; once Torgal and the soldiers had gone, however, the grey-hazel eyes that emerged to continue looking at the silent man were dry. Emma noticed a purple flower clutched in one tiny hand.

"Those flowers were your mother's pride and joy," she told him, and the four-year-old looked at her. Emma smiled, "-right after you, of course," she added, voice kind. David nodded, still silent. She ruffled his hair.

"Joy?" the Marquis asked suddenly, voice harsh. He was still staring at the empty garden. The Kellendros rose, its barrel glowing gold as the sky above turned purple. "Joy?" The barrel began to spin, showering the path and buds with sparks of glittering flame.

"Lord Aurien!" Emma shouted. When the glistening orb forming in the barrel of the Remnant showed no signs of abating, the general turned her back and forced David to the ground. "Down!" she crouched over him, shielding the Marquis's son with her body, as light and heat erupted behind her.

Every plant and tree in the Lady's garden burst into flame; dark clouds rose up in columns, choking out the sunset. The smoke that billowed over Lady Emma was thick and pungent, the smoke of plants burned before withered—the black consumption of life into fire. She looked up, eyes stinging, to see Lord Aurien standing at her side.

"Joy--there is no such thing left in this world." He disappeared then into the hallway and smoke. Rising, still trying to keep David shielded, Emma called an Art into her mind and threw it at the flames. A massive gust of wind issued forth from her, whipping the acrid gases up and away from the castle.

The fire died after just moments, having burned through its scarce fuel, and left behind smoldering debris and charred pathway stone. Assured that the immediate threat had passed, Emma crouched again to address her young charge.

"Young master—David," he had been looking past her at the blackened remains of his mother's garden; the woman grabbed his chin and gently-though forcefully-made him look her in the eye. "You must disregard my Lord's words—that was grief talking. There is always something in the world left, some glimmer that will make living worthwhile. Do you understand me?" He was four—she didn't really expect him to—but the somber eyes met hers and he nodded. "I mean it: you must understand there will always, always be something in this world worth fighting for." Again, he nodded. He wasn't attempting to look past her anymore.

_Such a solemn child_, Emma mused to herself, -_but bright also. He will rule us well, one day_. She heard hurried footfalls then and, smoothing David's hair in the process, straightened.

"What's goin' on out there?!" a voice roared, the overtone of panic obvious. The remnant wafts of had reached the main hall.

"Blocter." The Yama was only 9 years old, but already stood as high as Emma's shoulder. Seeing her, he immediately stood up straight and saluted.

"Ma'am!"

"Emma, did the Marquis..?" that was Pagus, hidden behind Blocter's massive bulk. He stepped around the youth, covering his nose with a kerchief.

"Yes." She left it at that. "Blocter, take the young master back to his rooms. Stay with him for a bit."

"Yes, Lady Emma," the Yama bowed a little to the general and to the Marquis's son, fist over heart. David walked out of the hall then, Blocter on his heels, and said nothing.

_Pleeeeeease R&R!!!!!! Please?_

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	2. Prologue 2: Pride Before

Hello! Thanks to my first two reviewers! Let's comtinue on with the story of David Nassau, from the often-underappreciated and hopefully-sequeled SE title "The Last Remnant!" Please add your 2 cents to the review board once you're done: constructive criticism and ideas for other avenues to explore are welcome (and praises too, of course ^.^).

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Prologue Two: Pride Before**

_**16 years old**_

The hours just after dawn lit the eastward-facing rooms, bathing the practice courts in the orange-pink light of the new day. Torgal and Emma were standing on opposing sides of the floor, positioned so that they could see the practice bouts—and make corrective comments on their charges' performance. In the center of the hardwood ring, David and Blocter (now a full foot and a half taller than his young master) squared off with wooden practice weapons, both of them shirtless because of the heat, oppressive even in the early hours. Further, as Torgal insisted, taking a hit on bare flesh—even with practice blades—made one mind the important lesson of defense all the more seriously.

"Again!" the Sovani ordered, unsatisfied. David and Blocter reset their drill, standing at the ready opposite one another.

"Attack!" Emma commanded; David was the first into motion, lunging forward with a backhanded slice. Blocter knocked the blade away with the handle of his axe, twirling the weapon and dragging it down from over his head to crash against David's shield. The Marquis's son let the blow glance and slide off his bracer, deflecting the greater part of the powerful slam. He slid to the side and reversed direction, sweeping his leg out and chopping Blocter directly behind his knees with a well-aimed kick; the Yama yowled and, completely off balance, toppled backwards to land with a loud THUD on his behind.

"Curse it!" Blocter roared, slamming his ham-sized fists on the floor. David (turned away from their instructors) was smiling slightly at his agitated friend's expression and offered him a hand back up.

"Pathetic, Blocter," Emma informed him. "You consistently forget that your size is your downfall. If you are ever going to—"

"My Lord?" Torgal cut in, looking in surprise at the door. Lord Aurien, flanked by Pagus, swept into the room.

"Athlum is being threatened. There are several legions of monsters organized on the Namura Plains. We move out within the hour."

"Sir!" the others chorused together. Activity boomed within the room, Emma directing her charges though the Marquis was not finished.

"I would speak with my son," Aurien said clearly. "Blocter, gather his things when you gather your own, then assemble with the others." The Yama saluted, as did the three generals, and all of them left the courts to prepare. David had pulled on his white linen shirt and, when his father turned to address him, bowed as the others had, right fist closed over his heart. To his surprise, however, the Marquis grabbed his shoulders and embraced him.

"Father?" David asked, slightly unnerved. Aurien stepped back, appraising his son with an odd look in his eyes.

"I wanted to make sure I spoke to you before…about the Remnants."

"I have minded all of Pagus's lessons, Father," David assured him, "-and have, for some time now. I can assure you that—"

"No, this is different, something the generals cannot teach you." He looked uneasy, uncharacteristically so, and his unease made his son uncomfortable. "David, you must understand: Kellendros and the Gae Bolg, while powerful weapons to be sure-" David had never seen the man stumble so, especially not when speaking about the Remnants, "-son, they will consume you. Once you are bound to them, you will know power unlike anything you've ever felt. At the same time, they will change you. Their fury will eat at you, even when you're not in battle. The hatred will tear you apart unless you find something else to occupy your mind, do you understand?"

The flood of information about Athlum's prized weapons was sudden and strange; David, as rarely caught off guard as his father, had no idea how to respond. Aurien went on:

"Find something, be it duty, be it learning, be it upholding the glory of Athlum—but you _must_ find some thought, some goal in which to immerse yourself, or the Remnants will burn through your mind and body like oil. It is…something I took too long to appreciate. Do you understand?" he demanded again, and his son saw deep lines in his face that he had not noticed before.

"I…yes, Father, I understand."

"Swear to me. Swear to me, as your Lord and your father, that you will never forget what I have told you." David bowed, covering his heart—in this, at least, he could default to something he knew.

"I swear it, my Lord." Aurien visibly relaxed, clapping his son on the shoulder.

"Good. Now then, let us go and teach our enemies what it means to defy Athlum!"

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There is a second part in the works for this prologue--I just wanted to get some feedback about this half of it first :) Also, I've got Chap. 1 mostly done--and I've got some more action, thankfully--I get into my usual style. Please Review!!

-K-


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